


One Night Early

by lil_slug



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Rough Sex, Spanking, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 19:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16204124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_slug/pseuds/lil_slug
Summary: El can't stand it. She just has to see him. Not tomorrow, while walking down the aisle. Right now.Or: All those Kinktober posts got me horny. I can't possibly put out a fic a day for the whole month, but I just had this on my mind for a while, so here you go.





	One Night Early

**Author's Note:**

> Just fluff and smut. Best enjoyed horny.

„Good morning, Mrs. Wheeler. Jane Wheeler...“ Wiping a small trickle of sweat from her forehead, El bites her lip anxiously. „Jane Wheeler.“ she repeats towards her reflection in the mirror. She particularly drags out the last name. „El Wheeler... Mrs. Wheeler.“ A smile tugs on her lips that‘s somewhere between terrified and exhilarated.

 

The alarm clock in her childhood bedroom shows 11PM sharp. In a bit more than twelve hours Jane Hopper will become Jane Wheeler. The thought always manages to make her legs feel wobbly, like pudding. But what‘s going to change, really? She and Mike have been living together for six years. They left their apartment as an engaged couple. They‘re going to return as a married couple. Will they look or feel different to each other then?

 

El hums a melody into the dark room as she circles the bed to reach for the window. It‘s a damn hot summer night, and she should definitely sleep. But how could she with the knowledge of what‘s to come? How could she with the heat from the outside _and the inside?_

 

Granted, her own heat, the one that leaves her desperate, needy and restless beyond communication might be her own fault. Because really, it was El who said something in the lines of „Hey, Mike, I think we shouldn‘t have sex from now on until our wedding night to make it really special.“ Yeah, what a bright idea, _Mrs. Wheeler_.

 

Today marks six weeks of this suggestion, and they surprisingly pulled through with it. Sometimes, when it got particularly bad, El took care of it herself. Mike did too, obviously. It‘s just that her own hands are a poor substitute for _his_ hands, or other parts of him she really doesn‘t want to think about now.

 

Back at their shared apartment, these weeks were torture, but at least with a minimum amount of relief because El could snuggle against Mike during the nights. She could still feel him, if not inside, at least on the outside. The last few days before their wedding, however, with Mike and El following this old fashioned tradition of staying at their respective childhood homes over night, is agony. Plain and simple.

 

„Dammit.“ El hisses as a breeze of at least somewhat cool air from the open window brushes over her body, only to make her realize the wet stain in the front of her pajama pants.

 

It really happens without her consciously thinking about it. Her own slim fingers slide past the waistband, directly to her dripping core, void of any underwear. Maybe, just maybe she can imagine. Yes, these aren‘t El‘s own fingers, they‘re Mike‘s. Nimble, experienced in all the delicious ways he can make her feel and squirm and whine. They tease first. He is so good at this, just touching her in every place save for the small spot from where the bliss would spread too soon.

 

Just circling her opening, with a flick _there_ every few seconds, Mike does everything he can to get El worked up. More and more, into heights she didn‘t think were possible without exploding. But all too soon, it‘s gone. El‘s rhythm breaks up, stalls at some point when the realization that these are in fact not Mike‘s fingers hits. With that, El growls into the silence in utter frustration.

 

To hell with one more night. To hell with this god damn stupid idea. She needs Mike, and she‘s going to have him. _Right now_.

 

* * *

 

She could have taken the car, but what good would it have done? Maybe the night air can manage to ground her a bit before she reaches his house. Well, it can‘t, mainly because it‘s hot and stale, with a small breeze maybe every other minute. It‘s so silent in the neighborhood. It‘s as if even small animals like squirrels and hedgehogs have taken to just lie down and bear the heat as best as they can.

 

El finds herself walking faster and faster, with her mind entirely focused on just one thing; Being ravaged by her future husband. It‘s a small miracle that she could actually stand this for six whole weeks. What difference does it make that she reached her breaking point just one night early?

 

It‘s then, five agonizing minutes after sneaking out without waking up Hopper, Joyce, Will or Jonathan, that El spots headlights. The make and model of the car aren‘t visible behind the blinding light, but one of them is dimmer than the other. She‘d recognize this car anytime. Their station wagon. A car way too large for two people living in a small apartment in Chicago. But hey, there might have been subconscious family planning involved when she and Mike bought it. She hopes so.

 

It gently rolls to a stop by the curb where El is walking. The window is already rolled down, and behind the wheel, El finds possibly the most delicious sight of this summer so far. Mike, clad in sweatpants and an all but soaked, plain T-shirt. His heavy breathing matches hers. „Get in.“ he growls in a possessive tone that makes her insides flutter and throb. She hurries to comply. There‘s no place she‘d rather be right now than in this car. What a coincidence. Not really, though. Of course Mike is here; their thoughts are one more often than not.

 

Mike steps on the accelerator as soon as the door is closed and El is buckled up. His features have softened from just a few seconds ago. „I can‘t stand this.“ he groans. „I‘m not gonna survive tomorrow if we don‘t- listen, I know you wanted this to be special and I‘m sorry if I‘m ruining it like that, but... _fuck!_ It‘s been six weeks, and- and I-“

 

„Mike.“ El interrupts his rambling in the most seductive, husky voice she is capable of. Her hand slowly slides up from his knee until he actually whines, wide eyes finding hers for just a second before he turns back to the road. „I wanted to see you.“ She leans close, until her lips almost touch his ear. „I want you to fuck me. I _need_ it, Mike. I need your cock inside.“

 

„ _Fuck!_ “ he hisses again. Her words must have ignited something in him. His demeanor changes in an instant. „I swear, you‘re gonna forget your name before I‘m done with you.“

 

This sort of dirty talk has El on the brink of orgasm just like that. Mike is usually such a gentle lover, but these weeks of withdrawal must have taken a greater toll on him than she thought. El only now notices how the backseats are already folded down, with a pile of pillows and blankets laid out in the back. „Where are we going?“

 

„Shit, I don‘t care. How about right there?“ Mike pulls into a path leading into the woods. El knows this is gonna end somewhere near the quarry, but there‘s a small stretch that‘s wide enough to park a car out of sight and out of the way of eventual other cars passing by. Mike parks right there, causing El a small sigh of relief. The five minutes it would have taken to crawl towards the quarry at walking speed would have been too much for her.

 

She doesn‘t even go around the car, instead opting to climb across the gearshift and in between the front seats to get in back. „Get back here!“ she orders in a hurry. „I‘m so wet for you, Mike!“

 

Mike doesn‘t need to be told twice. Because he is so much taller than her, it takes him quite a bit of effort, but he manages to climb into the back eventually. El can swear she has never felt this sort of impatience in her life before. Mike struggles with his shirt. The roof of the car is too low for him to really kneel upright and take it of, so it gets stuck before even exposing half of his stomach.

 

El can‘t stand it, and she won‘t have it. A flick of her head later, the plain white cotton shirt rips in half in front and at the sleeves, so it falls off of Mike‘s torso. Her breath hitches. _Finally!_ Finally El can touch her fiance. Hit skin, well defined muscles, everything perfectly laid out for her to scrape her fingernails over while Mike scrambles out of his pants.

 

„Your turn!“ he barks. „I wanna see you, El!“

 

Who is she to deny him that? Her shirt goes first. Then her sports bra and sweatpants, and suddenly she can feel herself dripping all over the pillows she lies down on. There isn‘t even time to get comfortable. Mike‘s mouth is on her this instant, hungry and desperate to nibble at every inch of skin. Neck, collarbone, whatever it is, El doesn‘t care if he leaves hickeys. She‘ll just have to cover them up tomorrow.

 

„More!“ she pleads. „Please, Mike!“ El can‘t think straight anymore. It‘s as though Mike is actually trying to devour her body. There is no real foreplay, no gentle caresses and assurances of love. They‘re way past that for the moment. Too many weeks separate them from the last time they made love to each other. She can‘t get even the slightest glimpse of his cock in between him all but ripping of his boxers and finally plunging inside. Mike bottoms out in a matter of a single second.

 

An animalistic grunt escapes him, while her insides feel as if split open. She was totally unprepared. It hurts _so good_. „Fuck me, Mike! Fuck me really hard and don‘t stop even if I‘m begging!“ His hands roughly grope around her hips, fingernails digging into her ass to find leverage.

 

And god, does Mike fuck her. He doesn‘t start out slow in the first place, pumping into El like a jackhammer. It‘s so dark out here in the woods, but Mike‘s gritted teeth stand out like a row if white piano keys. His face is distorted to show greatest exertion. In and out, in and out, seemingly going deeper with every thrust, he lets his head fall back.

 

„Harder!“ El shouts. „Or is this all you got?“ Turns out, it‘s not. It takes just a few seconds and El can‘t distinguish between thrusts anymore. And only now, with Mike really giving her all he‘s got, she can feel some relief. This is what she needed, what she was desperate for all along. This is what‘s going to finally make her able to breathe again. „Mike! Yeah, that‘s... that‘s... oh!“

 

She doesn‘t get to say whatever she was going to, because Mike suddenly decides to change it up a little. It‘s a swift motion, but her legs end up hanging over his shoulders. The car is so narrow her feet actually touch the roof like that, but it allows Mike to go just _that_ much deeper.

 

„This is all your fault! See what happens, El?“ he snarls, not slowing down a second. The slaps of skin on skin have turned into the sound of a machine gun. „No sex until our wedding night, huh? This is what you get for such a fucking stupid idea!“

 

„Yeah!“ she moans. „All my fault! Wreck my pussy, Mike! I wanna have to crawl up to my room tonight!“

 

„ _Your_ pussy?“ he taunts. „You‘re mine! And I‘m gonna have you whenever I want! You got that?“

 

This is so different from anything El has ever experienced with him. His insistence, his utter dominance, it‘s like he‘s lost himself in a way. This feels _so right!_ All of this, the hard pounding he‘s giving her, his fingers most likely bruising her hips, his words; While it‘s what she needs, it‘s still not enough to satisfy her hunger. „Mike you gotta punish me! Spank me! I deserve it!“

 

„Oh, I know you do!“ The speed of his deep, brutal thrusts is punishing by itself, but a few firm smacks to her ass from his broad, masculine hand _really_ has El‘s mind reeling. It‘s also what pushes her over the edge into a deep fall of explosion after explosion after explosion.

 

One high is chased by the next. Whenever she thinks this must be the end, her release climbs up yet another level. It‘s unlike anything she can make herself feel when Mike is not around. „Mike!“ she all but screams into the quiet night air. Her arms flail involuntarily, searching for Mike in front of her to have something to hold on to. She‘d lose the world around her otherwise.

 

Suddenly, a light show of white and red illuminates the woods around them. Headlights, tail lights, brake lights, they all flicker in and out of life for as long as El‘s muscles contract around Mike‘s raging hard cock that now pumps in and out with less and less rhythm and more insistence. A loud groan later, he simply collapses on top of her, with his face landing right in the crook of her neck.

 

* * *

 

It could be a minute. It could be an hour. El has no idea. It‘s a long time of just breathing, close to Mike with his cock still resting against her pussy, that‘s leaking her own juices mixed with his come.

 

His fingers gently brush across her hips. It hurts a bit. „God, I‘m so sorry, El.“ he gasps. „This gotta hurt.“

 

„S‘okay.“ she hums, shrugging. „I had it coming.“

 

Mike then crawls up a little further, so El can look into his eyes that are so dark, so wet and full of love. „Sorry I couldn‘t wait another night. I just love you so much. A-And I can‘t stand being away from you.“

 

„I couldn‘t have waited another _second_.“ she points out. „Tomorrow is gonna take a lot out of us.“

 

„I know.“ Mike nods. „But it‘s gonna give us even more. We‘re getting married, can you believe it?“

 

„Sure. I‘ve been staring at my dress for hours today.“

 

„You‘re gonna look perfect. And everything‘s gonna _be_ perfect.“ For the first time tonight, Mike kisses her. Their arms snake around each other in the embrace of two people who know they are whole together. They‘re a union, only complete when they are with each other. „Was I too rough?“

 

„Hm...“ El smirks into another deep kiss. „If that‘s what happens, we should maybe take another six weeks off...“

 

„Don‘t do this to me.“ he groans weakly. „It‘d kill me.“

 

„Yeah, I couldn‘t go through this again either.“ El stretches out on her pile of pillows. The parts of her body that aren‘t sore feel like they‘re made of jelly. She wants to stay. She knows she can‘t. „We should go home, Mike.“

 

„I know... I know...“ Mike sighs. „Think you‘ll be able to sleep?“

 

„Don‘t know. I hope.“

 

„Me too.“ He then scrambles for his clothes, only to stall when he holds up his torn to bits shirt. „Nancy and my mom are probably still up. I swear, they‘re even more nervous than we are.“

 

„And you‘re gonna have to tell them why you come home in the middle of the night. Without a shirt...“ El completes teasingly. „Good luck with that.“ Lazily, she reaches over for her bra, sweatpants and shirt, slides them on, and takes another good look at her soon to be husband. „I wouldn‘t mind you coming home shirtless every night.“

 

With mock exasperation, Mike throws the ripped shirt right in her face. „I‘m gonna sneak in through the basement then.“

 

* * *

 

It‘s half an hour past midnight when El carefully pulls the front door shut. If she‘s lucky, she might get a good seven hours of sleep. More than enough. Mike dropped her off a few houses down the street to avoid anyone at her house hearing the engine, or the car doors slamming. Like he did when they were horny teenagers, only that his engine was quite a bit louder back then. El giggles to herself at the memory. No one ever caught them.

 

„Hey, sweetie.“ a voice says.

 

No one ever caught them. Not until tonight, the night before their wedding. Oh, the irony. El jumps, shrieking a little. „Mom!“ She finds Joyce standing there right in the doorframe leading to the kitchen, two large glasses of water in her hands. She offers El one, obviously fighting her knowing grin.

 

„Even less sneaky than you were in High School.“ she notes wryly. „You‘re lucky your father isn‘t the great detective he thinks he is.“

 

„Yeah... well...“ Because she has no idea what to reply, El just takes the glass from Joyce and downs it in one drag. „I don‘t have to be sneaky. I‘m getting married.“ And she only notices that statement didn‘t make any sense whatsoever when Joyce spills her own water, laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know. It's not really that great and the ending is kinda awkward. But hey, I'm a bit drunk, so that's my excuse.


End file.
